"I have no time to talk with any one at present. I am on my way to school, and shall be busy until late in the afternoon. I am a teacher." She drew herself up with dignity, and he realized that she was not the simple child he had seen last, but a woman with an independence of her own. "Dismiss your school," he said in the voice he was used to having obeyed. "I cannot possibly wait until this afternoon. I must talk with you at once. I don’t intend to let you slip through my fingers so easily, now that I have found you, my pretty lady." He smiled, but there was a sinister menace in his voice. "It is impossible to dismiss school," said Dawn decidedly. "I should lose my position if I did a thing like that. Besides, I do not wish to talk with you. There is nothing to talk about." "There is everything to talk about," said the man, a fierce light coming into his eyes. "They have told you lies about me, and taken you away from me, but I mean to have you in spite of them. I will explain to you all about that poor woman. She was never my wife at all. Come, let the school take care of itself. You will have no further need of it. You belong to me, and I will take care of you. Come with me!" The last word was a command, and with it he took hold of her shoulder almost roughly and attempted to turn her round. At once there was a low growl behind his heels, and Daniel Butterworth’s dog took hold of the calf of his leg as if he too would say, "Come with me!" Harrington promptly let go of Dawn, who took advantage of her freedom and fairly flew down the street, leaving Daniel to settle up matters between his dog and the stranger, in whose frightened antics the boy was secretly taking deep delight. When Dawn had turned the corner and was out of sight, Dan called the dog off. Then Harrington Winthrop discovered that his lady had departed. Before that time he had been otherwise occupied. Angry, baffled, and exhausted, he was in nowise attractive. An interested group of boys and one or two little girls who had torn themselves away from the teacher’s side encircled him. Dan looked at him in quiet amusement, and then called his dog and betook himself to school. Most of the group followed him, with reluctant glances back at the dishevelled stranger. One little girl lingered, eying him wonderingly, and twisting her apron-strings. "Where is your school-house, little girl?" asked Harrington sharply. The child felt compelled to answer. "Round that there corner over there, and down the road a good piece." Harrington glanced after the boys and the dog uncertainly. Did the dog go to school also? "Where does your teacher board?" he asked again. "She’s boardin’ round, an’ it’s Ann Peabody’s turn this week. She’s got a boy what’s blind in one eye." "Ah! Indeed! That’s a pity. Where does Ann Peabody live?" "Next door but one to the church. The house with Johnny-jump-ups by the gate, an’ a laylock bush by the stoop."